Dreams and Memories
by Wanderingidealism
Summary: The strawhats and what they dream and remember, Sanji-brook. This is my first story. I worked hard on it. Characters and plot property of Eiichiro Oda. Please read and review... the Strawhats are my heroes, and I respect their will to live with all my heart. That is the reason I wrote the story- to honor their struggles as they fight to achieve their dreams. rated K for cussing.


Brook

He dreams of a whale's song, soft and young. He dreams in notes and beats, a somewhat- less-than-smooth song of life, and the sounds of the sea mingling with screams and the scent of blood lingering on a deck full of dying men. So many dead men. And he dreams of loneliness and spirals downward into insanity. He dreams of pain and promises long overdue. Of grief that has haunted his every step, with every breath and each sad note of the violin. The Last Song of a group of long since dead men, lingering as they dwindled in number; Quartet, Trio, Duet…. Solo… and the sound of the final chime of a piano as he too fell into the dark. He dreams of fifty long years alone….. But then a cloud with silver lining, bearing forth a light in the shape of a lion's head.

And suddenly the dream isn't so sad anymore.

Franky

He dreams of the scent of wood and scrap metal, mingling with the tang of salt. Of another boy, older, but obnoxious, and relentless teasing. Of an old merman with a laugh louder than thunder, content with his life, the fullness of seeing a dream achieved. He dreams of gun smoke, mortar, and sweat. hands blistered and red. He dreams of ten years and a floating train track, and secrets never to be revealed…. A greedy man, dressed in the uniform of one supposed to protect, haunts his dreams. The sound of a final gavel pound bringing unwarranted death upon an innocent man, who welcomed the death openly, though the two boys did not. He dreams of rushing pain and absolute final reality; how could one boy take on a train? He dreams of falling backwards onto the sea…. Of months spent reconstructing and picking up pieces- of broken machinery and of his own self. He dreams of fixing and inventing, but never weapons- not anymore. He dreams of people gathered around him, seeking refuge and a place to be repaired. He dreams of secret desires and long lost plans, things he didn't think would come true. He dreams of the courage of one dark-skinned teen, and blood and broken bones and a gnawing, unnatural guilt in his core. He dreams of a man's loyalty to a ship more beloved than a woman- it belonged to a beloved woman. He dreams of the same bravery in six people later, and the sharp cries of a woman shouting teary-eyed about life. He dreams of pain and hard battle, think all was lost and then found again, and time running out and one unexpected savior in the form of a mortally wounded ship and the same tears in his eyes as the dark-skinned boy- even though his face was shrouded in a mask. He dreams and remembers the flames as they laid the lost soul down to rest… and her wooden hull vanishing under the waves; one final voyage to save her beloved crew. He dreams of a dream realized. Dreams of more wood and hard labor; feels the pounding of hammers and the hard determination. He will be the best ship. He will take them to where they need to go. He remembers his friend standing there, as they think of a name, a name for a ship who, "_Sails a Thousand seas and is always Sunny._" And it sticks. He dreams of immense, unbearable pain in his lower regions and the smirk of a she-devil, and also some pretty supa pants that happened to be missing. He remembers the cries of his family to follow his dream, and the hands of the Sunny captain taking him aboard, and not even minutes later, an apology accepted and through a rain of bullets and cannonballs and insane grandfathers, escaping to the sea, on a ship destined to sail the world….

He dreams of a ship made of wood, and sweat, and blood. Forged on the grief and pain of loss, of another ship with a merry goat's head and loyalty enough to make one last voyage on her own to save her nakama. He dreams of a ship…. His ship… the Lion ship of destiny.

Robin

She dreams of a great tree of knowledge, almost as if out of ancient myth. Of people praising her genius, and a shiny medal. She dreams of ink and paper, and ancient languages and scrolls, long since forgotten and lost, and of history forbidden. She dreams of a giant with a booming laugh that could shake mountains, and hands bigger than small fishing vessels, with a smile that could outshine the sun in all its brightness. She remembers that smile every time she feels sad, alone, or scared, because sometimes its all she has left. She dreams of taunts, and children's cruelty, of abuse and not belonging. She remembers the big, black, foreboding stone, a harbinger of catastrophe… scrawled with ancient writings and texts. She remembers a giant who cared, and made here feel happy. SHISHISHISHI. She remembers the silver hair of her mother, as gun shots began to rain down upon an island of innocents. She remembers the other historians, saving as much as they could…. A lake of books. The flames ate everything, the Tree, and the historians, and she remembers the hell fire of cannonballs and bullets and there was death, all around… all around. She remembers the crawling ice, and how she shouldn't have lived, the innocents killed on the survivor ship, and then there was fleeing… The last plea of a giant as the ice crept up him, and that smile etched frozen forever and ever…. And then fleeing…so much fleeing, because she had nowhere to go; no one wanted the demon child of Ohara. No one. So she ran. Trust no one. get close to no one. then you'll live. People call her towards them to help her, all the while dialing the marines to grab her. So she runs. She dreams of being wanted for somethignn she doesn't understand is a crime. She knows too much about a time the government wishes to hide. She remembers her island, and her people, and her dream… she lives tocarry on their legacy… to find all the hidden history… she Remembers his laugh and his smile, SHISHISHISHI… She remembers he told her she'd find a place to belong, but where is it? She begins to doubt there is one…

Until a straw hat boy saves her from death, after she tried to kill him. until she flies through the sky with him, and accidentally grows attached to the courage and the love they radiate…And what is it with those who posses a D in their name, their indomitable strength, and courge and that same laugh and smile… she kept pushing them away, still… because she didn't want to see that smile too, frozen forever in ice, or burned entirely away. She pushed them away… Until they traveled through Hell and fought off people who should have butchered them, because they were never going to abandon her. She was nakama.

She dreams of flames—burning histories and lost stories. She dreams of a white flag, sniped from afar and a declaration of war that rocked the world. She dreams of a boy with a straw hat and a big dream, who is followed by the most insane people she has ever met, who challenged the world government to drag her back from her desire to free them from harm by dying. She Dreams of death and destruction and raining bullets and smiles that brighten the sky and laughter that rings loudly and can be heard everywhere…

She dreams of a final cry, loud above the sounds of fighting, because they came for her, because they cared.

"I WANT TO LIVE!" she screams, in reality and in her dreams. But it's not like they were ever doing to let her die.

Chopper

He dreams of bitter cold, but not the kind that came from snow, it was the kind attributed with loneliness and abandon, and walking behind because he was a freak and no one wanted him, and everything hurt. He dreams of charges with sharp antlers, and a bad-tasting fruit, and bullets ripping through flesh, and he remembers the screams of MONSTER and DEMON and FREAK and those hurt worse than the bruises gained and the bullet wounds. He dreams of a human stark naked in the snow, save a fuzzy, pink hat, promising shelter. He can remember crisp, warm bread, and the strong scent of potions, and long nights and days spent fighting and running from soldiers, because doctors are illegal, even the insane ones. He dreams of a sickening cough, a two-week lifespan, and a trip up the mountain for that one ingredient, because skulls and cross bones meant freedom and adventure, right? He dreams of an explosion, and the word _son _and the final death and suddenly he's alone except for a woman who trains him how to heal. He Dreams of herbs, and bandages and the will to live, because his father dreamed of a cure for all things, and something that could fix a broken country. He dreams of Doctrine, working his furry ass off, and a castle turned memorial and testament, with a flag of black and pink, with crossbones and freedom.

He dreams of a straw Hat dangling from the head of a jacketless boy, and two half-dead forms carried up the mountain, straight up, because there are no lifts. He dreams of hours spent healing, and a chase through the castle, first for meat and then because that boy wanted him, but who would ever want a monster? He remembers Wapol returning, and blind fury, and a desperate battle. He dreams of watching the smoke from the cannon clear, and suddenly that boy is there, protecting that precious flag, and Wapol defeated, runs away.

He dreams of a violent goodbye, because she can't bring herself to say goodbye, especially to an apprentice she pretended not to love, but took care of anyway, because really she did. He dreams of cold, white turning pink. Spring brought to an island forever trapped in winter, and not being afraid anymore, because he found a place with monsters scarier than he was, because God damnit! Humans shouldn't be alive after losing that much blood, nonetheless taking off to train!

He remembers his first fight on his own, and nearly dying and the sense of victory after defeating his first enemy. The mole-woman was a good battle, but was nothing compared to the wicked priest with swamp-powers, and That bell's chime ringing loud enough for the Blue Sea to hear, and 400-year-old promises being honored, finally, is the most beautiful sound to ever grace his sensitive ears…

He dreams of Battles and saving nakama who tried to pretend they don't need to be, but they came and saved her anyway, because they would never leave her, no matter what she looked like, or what her past was. Because they were the kind of crew that took in monsters, because sometimes the scariest people are the good guys, and the ones who are supposed to protect don't do their jobs right. He dreams of one rumble ball failing, then the second too… and pink hair slashing all the while, and Nami was in trouble, and he would not let Robin down! The key was needed, and it was up to him to take down the mountain sage, so he had to take that third one, even though it could cause severe damage…. He doesn't remember what happens next, except the aweful pain and moaning, but why? Then he remembers the desperate escape and a wooden friend's last voyage, and the heart wrenching pain he felt, and he knew Usopp felt, because even if the sniper was in disguise, he could still recognize the scent…

He dreams of darker things. Scary monsters, brought back from the dead, and an idolized hero shattered in his mind. Pure fury filling his soul when he learns of the dark deeds done on corpses that should have remained to rest in peace. He remembers exacting revenge for souls yanked from bodies by force, and bodies raised from the dead and used as mere puppets, and a fight against a shadow of his captain that nearly killed them all. He dreams of bodies fading in the sunlight, even though they had won…

But they were alive… even after the man came with a bible, and demanded the Straw Hat's head… He dreams of their definite answer, "NEVER" ringing out in dawn's early light, because he had protected all of them in the past, and they would NEVER betray him. He was what held them together, and without him standing there beside them at the end as all dreams were achieved it wouldn't be the same. Without his captain, it would never work, and he must become the king. And he remembers the sudden pressure explosions, and waking to find a crater of blood, and _HE SHOULDN'T HAVE LIVED. _He dreams fitfully, of nearly losing him three times during surgery, and how can one body take so much? It nearly killed him, and if things keep up like that, the green-haired swordsman, his hero, the strongest would die… Even his skills weren't enough to heal all of the damage…

He fears one day he may not be strong enough… one day the bleeding just won't stop, and he won't be able to save his nakama, and without his Nakama what point is there in completing his dream? Because he'll be needed to stitch up the swordsman, the captain, the navigator, the sniper, the chef, the Princess, the archeologist, the cyborg, and the skeleton forever, and if he can't even save one of them, one of the people who loved him, even though he wasn't that strong, and wasn't that brave, and was a talking reindeer and considered monstrous, then what gave him the right to pursue his dream?

When He dreams he dreams of pink snow, the scent of medicine and chemicals, and a special powder that healed the soul of a broken country. He dreams of Hot desert battles, fights in the sky, becoming strong and brave for the sake of nakama, and for corpses he never knw, but needed to avenge. He dreams of blood, and guts, and hours of surgery, and "_PUT THE DAMN BANDAGES BACK ON BEFORE I TIE YOU TO THE BED!" _and Of laughter, parties, and the feeling of belonging.

And a red vest, bright smile, and straw hat, with eyes that accepted him for what he was- their doctor, forgetting about the talking reindeer aspect all together- and never, ever called him a freak.

Princess Vivi

She dreams of hot desert sands, and her friend nearly dying for her, because she was his friend and important. Of fights and rebellions spawned by the lies of a man desperate for power. She dreams of secrecy, and a group of pirates that agreed to help, even though it wasn't their problem. She remembers the courage gained last second, from one who was terrified, because even the weakest could be stronger than iron, and his friends were in great danger.

She dreams of a furry doctor, and no food for a week, of cranky navigators who flung pillows in their sleep… of the warm feeling of unity and friendship…

She dreams of rushing through those hot desert sands, racing against time to reach the rebels, before they did something rash, and then the pain and horror of finding out that her father's face had been taken.

She dreams of the determination in the captain's face, and Mr. Toh-toh's drive to reach that water, though the oasis was dried out. She dreams of banana gators, and the sick horror of learning true intentions and goals, and _she was unable to help at all. _But she was. She remembers the face of the captain, telling her to rush ahead, and when she next saw him, a gaping wound in his side, he was geared to fight.

She remembers pleading at the top of her lungs, because her captain was fighting a man with a wicked, black heart, and she needed to stop the war because there was a bomb in the square, and everyone was going to die- and she remembers the look on her childhood friend's face when, after trying to help her, he was shot in the back by an evil agent, spawning more bloodlust.

And she remembers screaming, and crying, and _no one could hear her over the destruction. _She dreams of a fight that tore her country in half- family versus family, friends turned foes for no reason, and she was trying to save them all, but _no one could hear her._ Until five voices reached her, and they searched desperately, a flight up the side of the clocktower leading only to a final moment of despair. Everything she ever cared about falling apart, because _it was a timed bomb. _She remembers the last flight of Brave Pell the Falcon Guardian of Alubarna. She dreams of tears, and a last farewell, because he would die protecting his country and his princess.

She remembers falling exhausted to her knees, as the battle began to wane, and the ground shattered, and Crocodile defeated, lay on the ground. She remembers Igram, thought dead, bringing forth the injured boy who saw more than he should have, and the truth being learned. She remembers the pain on Kohza's face as he realizes what he almost did; nearly destroying his own country, because he thought he was saving it.

She remembers sleepless nights. Unsure of where to go, her country or with her nakama…

She remembers, her speech, given to the people through a den den mushi as she waved her nakama off. Because that's what they are- her nakama. She can never be without them, but her country needed her, and so she told them, when they had all achieved their dreams, to come back and take her with them, so she too could travel once again, because she wanted, more than anything, to be one of them again, even if they would, in the near future, accept an old enemy into the crew, and even if, also in the near future, she would no longer be dreaming alone in her bed, the scars of an old bullet wound and of the pain of betrayal of a friend because of some false information and a desire to protect.

And when she looked up, she remembers, after she had wiped all of the tears away, she found six arms raised silently in answer….

And six green X's marking a promise.

When he dreams, he dreams of skirts, and an old man on a rock for 80 days in total starvation, of life debts and recovery, and a boy with a big dream and a battered straw hat. He dreams of an ocean whose crystal clear waters are filled with fish from all over the world.

When He dreams, he dreams of pain, and tears, and fights, and a shitty marimo who annoys him to no end, but cannot bring himself to hate. He dreams of adventure, and loyalty.

Loyalty to a man who can never bow to anyone, because he has dreams, but stops to help anyway, because he can't just leave someone behind. With eyes that search through your soul, seem to know when you need help, know when you're in pain or need. Even if he's an annoying idiot sometimes, with an appetite larger than life, and the firm belief that meat cures everything. Loyalty to a crew with dreams just as big, and who would do anything to protect their captain, even if it means decorating the sides of a large crater with their own blood, because their captain is the world to them, and they are the world to him, and no one's dream would be complete without a single one of them there.

When he dreams he dreams of nakama. Of sacrifices made to protect. He dreams of a blood-filled crater, and choking down bile as a green-haired man stands solemnly in the middle, wounds oozing crimson and a far-off, glazed over look in his eyes. He remembers the pure fear clutching his heart, because the idiot shouldn't have survived that, and he could have lost his dream out to death- and yet he did it anyway, because his captain is the most precious thing in the world. He dreams of a red-head, beautiful, manipulative- yes he knows she is, but he feels it's his duty to please her anyway- who is strong when she needs to be, and often even more. He dreams of a woman with raven hair, silent, sad, and tough on the exterior, but like a shellfish, soft and sensitive inside. It just took them a while to open her up. He dreams of a furry doctor with enough determination and stamina to keep them healthy, no matter how severe the wounds. He dreams of cowards and liars who aren't so cowardly when push comes to shove. He dreams of shipwrights who speak without thinking first, and seem to be kind of bully-like, but are actually quite soft and maybe a bit overenthusiastic and eccentric. He dreams of a skeleton with an afro and an urge to say certain statements to ladies that deserve a good kick to the face, yet who is a total gentleman when engaging in battle, or elsewhere. He dreams of spices and recipes, of nakama and battles and sacrifice.

When he dreams he dreams of a sea filled with fish from all over the world, of men mocking dreams, of a crew stronger than a storm, and ten times as terrifying as an 80-day starvation period on a Godforsaken rock. He dreams of spices, 3'o'clock refrigerator raids, and shitty swordsmen who even death fears. He dreams of liars, and reindeer, and cyborgs, and archeologists; of long skirts and elegant ladies on a stormy night long ago. Of strong-willed navigators, and skeletons that seem broken, but are in the process of healing. He dreams of princesses and the determination to end a pointless war, and an old man with a braided mustache, waiting for the story upon his return.

Mostly though, when he dreams, it's of a straw hat and willpower stronger than even sea stone, and a smile that gave off it's own heat and life. A life that holds them all together, a rag-tag assortment of the oddest personalities ever to grace the lovely lady blue.


End file.
